


countdown 'til you come off your rails

by brandywine421



Category: Daredevil (TV), Titans (TV 2018)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Gen, M/M, Team Red
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-14
Updated: 2020-12-14
Packaged: 2021-03-10 21:46:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,572
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28064163
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brandywine421/pseuds/brandywine421
Summary: AU for everything everywhere.  Dick Grayson doesn't get a job in Detroit when his life goes to shit, he decides to make his fresh start in Hell's Kitchen.Dick doesn't always make the best decisions, okay.
Relationships: Dick Grayson/Matt Murdock
Comments: 6
Kudos: 78





	countdown 'til you come off your rails

_Countdown 'til you come off your rails_   
_And it ain't going well_

Hell's Kitchen was not Gotham. The crime, the weather, the filth might be similar, but the aura of the place was - off. 

He could have chosen Bludhaven, could have chosen to leave the state, Detroit, maybe head back to California and finally learn how to surf.

But if he was truly walking away - not running like a coward, but walking away like a functional, rational adult, then he needed to go somewhere new.

He had three years of college, a shiny new certificate from the police academy and a fistful of cash from selling off the last of Bruce's birthday watches that paid for his first and last month's rent.

He had a new home - Hell's Kitchen - Batman and the Titans and Justice League and - years of unpacked baggage - couldn't follow him here. He could be Richard - but probably still Dick - Grayson without the rest of it. His failures and - all of it.

New, not necessarily fresh but - familiar enough to work. Better than - it would be better. He would be able to finish positive statements to reassure himself - eventually.

He picked up his keys, picked up replacement locks and keys from the hardware store and was well on his way to finding the positives when a dumpster grunted at him a block from his new place.

He wasn't in Gotham. This wasn't Robin or Nightwing's territory - Hell's Kitchen, well, it was the Devil's borough.

He wasn't getting mixed up with the crazy red-horned demon or his sticks, he remembered training with imitations of those batons and Bruce always managed to nail him in the balls at least once a session.

"Damn," said the dumpster before a gloved hand weakly emerged from below the lid.

It was so pathetic, so existential when the hand came up again he had to fight back a laugh.

"Fuck my life," the dumpster grunted, with a pronounced bang and thump of a failed kick.

He put down his bags and threw back the lid of the dumpster, peering down at the slumped masked man, devil horns in place with that chiseled jaw of fury - and momentary defeat considering he was sitting in a crater of trash.

"I didn't see anything and I'm not going to say anything," he said, offering his hand and heaving the man out of the garbage.

"Thank you," Daredevil said, brushing off and smearing - yep, soy sauce was a bitch to get out - across his chest. The man sniffed and curled his lips up in a strangely kind smile. "Welcome to Hell's Kitchen." And he was gone in a double wall bounce and parkour up the fire escape to the roof he'd probably fallen from in the first place.

_"There you are - did you fall? Seriously? We went back like three buildings - "_

"They need communicators," he said absently. But not everybody had Batman money and - this wasn't Gotham no matter how much it oddly felt like home pulling a masked man out of a trash heap.

* * *

He made it through all three interviews with the Hell's Kitchen PD without calling in any favors or references from his 'previous' lives.

He made it through three weeks of patrol and shadowing and parking tickets without putting on a mask and beating the sirens to the crime scene.

He made it through three circuits of the dim streets with tonight's training officer before breaking his 'don't make friends' rule and letting his curiosity win out over boredom.

"What's up with the gym?" He'd seen people going in and out, but the lights were rarely on and it seemed shut down.

"Fogwells? Been closed for a few years, owned by the bank now, I think," Kosmo said. "Murdock and some of the locals keep the place up."

"The lawyer?" Dick asked, surprised. He made a mental note to check the cobwebs around the fire escape of the gym to compare to the webs he spotted everywhere else in seemingly perfect swinging locations.

"Yeah, he uses it as his personal workout space since he doesn't need lights," Kosmo shrugged. "His dad was a boxer, Battlin' Jack. My old man was a big fan, went on a four day binge when he got capped, whole borough turned out for his funeral."

Dick had met the lawyer, and his amiable partner and steely sharp assistant - or snoop - whatever, Karen Page was fierce - but he didn't know the backstory. Nelson, 'only the Captain can call him Foggy in uniform', was a friendly guy he'd shared the Starbucks line with outside the station a few times and had a connection to that deli that Dick loved. 

Murdock was the hot blind partner that nobody in the office wanted to show up when they collared a bad guy. Nelson would at least be polite to you before politely freeing his client - but Murdock, his politeness came with a price.

He caught himself studying the guy, his graceful swagger, the way he always dropped his stick when he was buttering up Susie for intel because she openly ogled his butt, the way he turned his body toward dropped mugs and raised voices through soundproofed walls.

"You know how he lost his sight?"

Kosmo snorted, but it wasn't unkind. "Everybody knows that story, kid, saved an old man from getting hit by a truck. Grew up in the orphanage, never misses a Sunday mass. Why all the questions?"

"Gym memberships are expensive," Dick covered, earning an understanding nod. 

* * *

The peace could only last so long and when he caught a glimpse of Daredevil's red on his roof - like some kind of pit stop for vigilante traffic - he'd had enough of standing aside and suited up. They were on his roof, it was his right, okay?

Daredevil was at the far edge, listening to something. Staticky voices speaking - Ukranian if his dialect was right. He thought he was being stealth but the horned punk turned toward him with a knowing sneer.

"What's going on?" he asked.

"Do you understand them?" Daredevil deflected, tilting his head toward the walkie-talkie on the edge of the roof.

Dick nodded. "Yeah, you?"

Daredevil hummed. "They're trafficking girls and children - I don't want to turn them over to INS, but I'm going to release them and leave the smugglers for you and your cop friends. Are you on or off the clock?"

Dick reached for his mask automatically because - Nightwing wasn't - how did this asshole know - 

"Time out," a voice chirped before - thwip - quieter than his grappling hook but louder than Matt's silent rappelling baton. Spider-Man had tricks - and flips - nice. "Apologize to the very helpful **masked** man that's going to play translator for us - "

"Oh. _Shit_ ," Daredevil said.

"No killing, right?" Dick needed to confirm - blown cover be damned.

"Team Red is committed to no fatalities," Spider-Man nodded firmly, turning to Daredevil. "Do you have a plan yet?"

"Um," Daredevil hesitated. "Knock out all the smugglers and get Wade to blow the lock with one of his guns?"

"Okay, hang on - " Spider-Man shrugged, looping his arm out and leaping off the building with older vigilante on his hip.

Spider-Man soared and Dick missed the air, had the urge to leap after them but - 

Deadpool was talking on the walkie-talking between gunshots - kneecaps from the sound of the Ukranian howls.

Fuck it - his cover was already blown and it would be less traumatizing for the women and children if he quietly picked the lock on their storage container without resorting to more gunplay.

He aimed the grapping gun at a convenient ledge and Nightwing took flight into the fray.

It wasn't Gotham and Daredevil fought like no one he'd every seen before - Deadpool was a wrecking ball of swords and below the belt brawling and Spider-Man - hell, he was a dainty butterfly of doom firing web and disarming spin kicks without directly engaging any of the bad guys.

They converged on the shipping container Daredevil had pinged as full of people and he found himself face to face with Deadpool and his dripping swords.

"New guy - welcome to the party," Deadpool greeted him.

"Sure, but - " Dick was off his game and he hated it.

"I don't give a fuck what you do in your real life - wanna be a cop? Just be a good cop," Wade said with an easy shrug as if he knew how to make everything worse. "D's a lawyer, a good one - helps people that deserve it - and me, I wanna be an assassin so I'm a *good* one, only kill people that deserve it - and Spidey, well, he's a kid, but he's a *good* kid, only throws tantrums when it's important."

"I hate you," Daredevil and Spider-Man said in unison as they landed in superhero pose - on one knee like mirrored professionals before shoving Deadpool off the top of the container in a synchronized motion.

"Can we all forget everything that happened tonight?"

"Lawyer, student, assassin, cop - sure," Dick said dryly. "I'm gonna let these folks out and call this in. You have five minutes to clear the perimeter or - "

"Got it, come on, Double-D, we need to debrief stat," Spider-Man said.

Deadpool called out, "And then snacks? I was promised - "

"Yes, fine, snacks, let's go," Daredevil grumbled.

Nightwing watched them scramble over the incapacitated gangsters and disappear into the shadows.

Officer Dick Grayson let the women and children out of the dark box.

* * *

"I - don't know if I'll ever be as calm as you guys," Spider-Man confessed, sprawling across Dick's couch without spilling his open can of Red Bull. He wondered if the kid's caffeine intake had anything to do with his new neurosis - but he also wondered why the fuck he'd let the little punk into his apartment after last night's 'party'.

"Correct me if I'm wrong, but don't you have a thing that automatically tweaks your instincts to high when there's danger?"

Spider-Man shifted. "Well, yeah. But sometimes I can't tell if you guys are even breathing because you're so still."

Dick hesitated. Fuck Batman. "Are you seriously trying to get my backstory right now?"

"I must exploit every opportunity," Spider-Man grinned. "But I'll take a vague explanation if you can give me some tips. I'm crowd-sourcing because I've already harassed them about it."

"Sneaking around's not really your gig, Spidey," he said. "You're light on your feet and quiet by default."

"Daredevil can't find you sometimes. I'm feeling you out so he doesn't have to." Spider-Man held his gaze without blinking - he was learning. "Are you a ninja? A mutant? Infected by an alien parasite?"

"No," he said. "Are those the only theories?"

"Those are known threats."

Oh. "None of those, but - maybe in another life I was a vigilante and sanctioned superhero for a very short time. Shit went sideways and - walking, not running or hiding - walking away was the cleanest exit I had."

Spidey studied him but nodded after a long moment. "So you have had training but you aren't here to mess with us. You aren't in the game."

"I fucked up the game so I tapped out. Hell's Kitchen - reminds me of home and I can try to help on the other side of the law. I always had a partner or a team - solo, makes me sloppy."

"If our identities get out, our lives are over. We don't have fancy toys or exit plans or safe places for our loved ones. Our identities are - "

"Nobody understands that better than me," Dick cut him off.

"Mine leaked last year. Daredevil's a little before that - we had to fight like hell, change our habits and our tactics to get cleared. A hint of a mistake will take us down." Spider-Man said. "You don't think like us, don't fight like anything Matt can pinpoint."

That was definitely a good thing. He hoped. Matt - shit. The lawyer. The blind lawyer - of fucking course.

"He did not mean to out you in costume, he - didn't pick up on your mask but he recognized you from the station," Spider-Man said.

"I was thinking of asking him out," Dick sighed, slumping onto the couch.

"Unfortunately, I'm well aware that he would have accepted." Dick glanced at him because - what?

"You suggested we try using communicators when we work together and he's been protesting by babbling about how hot you are whenever we manage to plant one in his suit."

"You're all idiots," Dick decided, but it was interesting that they'd taken his advice - that they'd heard his advice at all since - he'd said that to himself, weeks ago, hadn't he?

The tap-tap-tap on the window was sharper than normal. "Don't call him an idiot, he's the smart one," Daredevil - no, Murdock, the asshole - called through the opening before slithering inside. 

"Thanks, Double-D," Spider-Man beamed before turning his attention back to Dick. "We're new at this teamwork stuff but we're trying it out. Wade's had the most experience and he's got some - mental health issues that he's working on and Matt and I are never going to be soldiers."

"I can't work with that thing in my ear, it's like feedback," Matt said, shoving something in his hand.

"But we need to know where you are and you always cut the lights," Spidey protested.

Daredevil - Matt - turned to him, tugging off the armored cowl and looking adorably lost with his floofy helmet hair and misdirected eyes. "You worked with a team of Supers?"

"Sidekick to a vigilante asshole like you first, but yeah, I did, until it went spectacularly wrong," Dick admitted.

"We need clean cops more than we need more masked crimefighters," Matt said. "But - the kid's fucking insistent and I can't seem to scare anyone out of Hell's Kitchen anymore - "

"Because your partner only lets me use the pictures of you rescuing babies or kittens in the newspaper," Spider-Man said, pulling back his mask. Goddamnit. Peter Parker *was* Spider-Man.

"I promised his aunt I wouldn't let him arrested anymore and she wants us to be a team," Matt said, deflating against the window.

"Ouch," Dick winced.

Peter stood up and gave Dick a wary look before squeezing Matt tightly. "We're doing the right thing. Nobody wants to find you dead in a church basement again and I'm not going back to the Raft. We don't need to work together all the time, but - backup is good. Say it with me."

"Backup is - fine," Matt sighed. "Please stop hugging me and get out of Hell's Kitchen."

Dick barked out a laugh, half hysterical but at least a quarter amused.

"Got it. See you Tuesday," Peter said, sliding through the window. "Bye, Nightwing."

He hissed out a curse.

"Do I need to research that for myself?" Matt asked, making no move to leave.

"Please don't. I moved here to - get away from all that," Dick sighed. "The Kitchen was supposed to have an in-house vigilante and a shitty police department where I could move up the ranks easily - then I find out that Daredevil's the hot lawyer I'm supposed to hate and my boss is actually a clean cop."

"Mahoney's a good cop," Matt said.

"He's also pissed off that the rookie got a call from his pet vigilante before he did," Dick countered. "You broke protocol."

Matt pushed a hand through his hair. "I needed to know - what your intentions were in town."

* * *

"Captain?" Dick held his breath until the man waved him into his office.

"Grayson. What is it now?"

He closed the door and hoped this didn't backfire. "I wanted to talk to you about - why Daredevil called me the other night."

That got Mahoney's attention. "I'm listening. Is this on the record?"

"Guess that'll be up to you," Dick conceded. "I grew up in Gotham City."

Mahoney raised an eyebrow. "Those cops oughta have Batman on the payroll from what I hear."

"It's better - the police force, that is, than it used to be but they can't always handle the kind of bad guys that pop off. One of the reasons I chose Hell's Kitchen was the lack of Weird. Regular gangsters and crimes are like a vacation and I wasn't even a cop there," Dick said with a tired shrug. "Guys in masks making anonymous tips isn't weird to me and Daredevil could tell. I think - I think he recognized me."

"From where?"

"I helped him out of a dumpster a few weeks back, before I got the job. And he possibly - knows who I used to be."

"Richard Grayson from Gotham City. Bruce Wayne's kid," Mahoney said after a beat, raising both eyebrows. "You're a cop?"

"Yep," he said, popping the 'p'. "And I'm not affiliated with the Waynes anymore. Well, I'll probably get a Christmas card but not an invitation."

"You tried it his way and now you're trying yours? Good for you," Mahoney said, leaning back in the seat. "Why are you telling me?"

"Daredevil seems to think he hurt your feelings. And I'm not one to talk about family secrets but - I think your mom yelled at him," Dick said, carefully watching his reaction.

"She - of course she did," Brett sighed instead of panicking at the idea of his mother, Sweet Bess, knowing the Devil of Hell's Kitchen. "So you've talked to him again?"

"Yep," he winced at the 'p' this time, a slip. Damn.

"He still needs to call me for tips," Mahoney said. "He can't change the game when we've held the truce this long. He's got Deadpool and The Punisher holding to the 'no kill' rule and the Mayor wants me to go for a 'no maiming' amendment if we can hold the peace."

Huh.

"Anybody in Gotham that can vouch for you? I'd like to put you on Vigilante Task force, well, you'd be the only one on it 'til they lift the hiring freeze - but I'd need a reference to take to convince my bosses."

"Gordon's got the old man on speeddial, but he did help me get into the Academy," Dick considered aloud, God, he was so sloppy.

Mahoney nodded. "I take confidentiality very seriously, Grayson."

"Is the Task Force in charge of taking them down or - " Dick hesitated.

"Handling the reports and follow-ups mostly - never quote me on this but we gave up chasing evidence on the vigilantes when they started leaving the bad guys alive. Daredevil pulled this place from Fisk's grubby fingers three times already and I'm pissed off that the HKPD's always in the middle of it. Let him fight his ninjas and leave the real crime to us, you know?"

"Ninjas?" Dick asked.

"Unfortunately, we have our share of 'Weird'," Mahoney sighed.

"Will I get a raise or a promotion?"

Mahoney laughed. "Nope, but you'll make a lot of friends if you can keep those assholes off our radar."

It was definitely something to consider.

* * *

He never envied Jim Gordon but he hoped the old man never had to put up with this kind of bullshit.

Daredevil's fledgling 'Team Red' aside, Hell's Kitchen may as well have been a Hellmouth with the interchangeable vigilantes and villains.

He met Jessica Jones, all swagger and teeth - and Matt's absolute favorite drinking buddy, and then Luke Cage who, fine, was awesome, and quickly became Dick's absolute favorite drinking buddy. Danny Rand was everyone's favorite drinking buddy because he always picked up the tab.

Frank Castle and the Daughters of the Dragon were trickier but he met Micro through The Punisher, and promptly mirrored all his surveillance back to his place, and Ward Meacham through Colleen, and promptly instructed him how to funnel funds to establish Team Funds off the books - Fuck you, Bruce, he was always paying attention.

It wasn't his 'team-building consultations' keeping him busy, though - he spent plenty of time parkouring with Matt and swinging over rooftops with Daredevil.

It was his day job that got complicated when the vigilante task force - meaning him - got an anonymous tip - meaning Peter - alerting him to a new BOLO on the scene.

Spider-Man was being followed by an 'unknown alien with personal space issues'. A quick call to Matt and an unwanted return call from Wade solidified the report.

He didn't need to confirm with Mahoney before he called for a consult.

* * *

He'd never get over those - biceps. Just - wow. And he'd seen Superman without his shirt enough times to have fantasy fodder for the rest of his life but the arms, man, he forgot the glory of those - 

"Nightwing?" 

He winced when Eddie grunted in understanding. "Yeah, just - sometimes, it's not like before. I need a favor from - Clark."

Superman dropped to the roof with a concerned look. "Of course, how can I help? Do you want me to call him - "

He waved Eddie over. "This is Eddie Brock, he's a reporter that needs - a decent reference to get a back on his feet."

Eddie offered a wave. "Got an alien sharing my body that's having some issues dealing with crazed government scientists and social norms."

Superman studied him with sharp eyes and - biceps for dayyyys - and huffed offering his hand. "Friend of Dick's is a friend of mine."

Eddie hesitated, glancing at him. "I said I was sorry, Grayson."

He waved permission and the men shook hands.

"What's that about?"

"His alien half is on my shit list," Dick sighed. "Eddie's fine, his writing's not even that bad but - Venom is a spoiled brat that needs to keep their hands - tongue - whatever appendages to themself."

Venom materialized in a flash and Clark didn't flinch, only regarded them with a raised eyebrow. "You have no claim on the Daredevil - fine, Eddie has confirmed your 'dibs' but - "

"That tongue is inappropriate!" Dick groaned when Venom loomed over them.

"Eh, they do that a lot, didn't know your kind made it this far across the galaxy," Superman said. "You got any plans to decimate the planet?"

"I am told that would be inappropriate," Venom grinned wickedly, shifting back into Eddie's shape.

"We've chased off a couple of his enemies, but it's hard to keep a job and maintain a reputation when sometimes I'm kidnapped by aliens," Eddie said. 

"Give me your word - both of you - that you won't go dark or seduce Dick's crushes while you're using Clark's reference," Superman said.

"He's not my crush - "

"Put a ring on it or get the fuck out, Grayson, I didn't know y'all were circling each other," Eddie groaned. "But yes - absolutely, Superman, and I'll talk to your buddy and have my samples sent to him if he needs proof I'm a real journalist."

"And you'll stop causing trouble in Hell's Kitchen unless you call somebody first," Dick added with a tired sigh.

"Already made that promise. Midtown's still fair game, though, right?" Eddie beamed.

* * *

He should have known Clark would tattle. But he didn't expect - hell, nobody would expect - Bruce Wayne to turn up at his door with a neatly packed tub of food and his intermittent girlfriend on his arm.

* * *

Dick thought the dinner was going well despite Selina's impatient tapping foot perilously close to Bruce's designer shoe. They must be having a snit, which made the surprise joint visit even more curious.

They might - horrors - want to talk about emotions or something he wasn't prepared for.

Bruce and Selina both snapped their eyes from their plates to something behind him and - wow, something he was even LESS prepared for.

Daredevil froze, only one leg through the window when he realized he'd been noticed. He turned and revealed a fluffy white kitten with a familiar bat symbol hanging from the jeweled collar.

"You left the window down, didn't you?" Selina snarled at Bruce. 

"There was a pet in the car, of course I did - she was in the crate - "

"I didn't put her in the blasted cage because she was safe in the car - "

Dick hurried to the window where Matt, or Daredevil at the moment, was cuddling the kitten to his chest and making ' _mow mow mow'_ sounds into her fur. "Caught her a block away, her collar has your address on it, I think," Matt said, his roped fingers sensitive enough to make out the lettering.

Bruce cleared his throat. "Dick?"

"Yeah. Bruce, Selina, this is my - friend, Daredevil."

"Friend?" Bruce questioned.

"In the mask, he's a cop I do not trust whatsoever," Matt said.

Dick sighed. "Out of the mask, I've been using those box seats you gave me for the Gotham Symphony."

Selina hissed. "And not an invitation for your dear old - "

He stared her down. "When have you ever been 'dear' or 'old', Selina?"

She preened, satisfied enough.

Dick turned back to Matt. "Want to stay for dinner?"

"Until I hear something, sure," Matt conceded. 

* * *

Matt made it through three whole bites of dessert before he twitched toward the window. "Gotta go. Bruce, Selina, it was nice to meet you - "

"Anything I need to - " Dick started.

"You're off duty for three days, I'm not messing that up for you over a drunk and disorderly - probably won't even get to hit anyone if I can scare them off first," Matt said as he reached for his cowl and frowned, confused then amused. The kitten meowed in protest as he carefully removed her from her hiding space curled in his cowl.

"Wait - " Selina said, catching Matt by the window and sliding a lint roller from somewhere in her dress. "White cat means you'll need one of these if you're stalking the shadows."

"You already tried to pick my pocket, you aren't going to find anything new," Matt said and Selina laughed, bright and open.

Bruce and Dick shared a worried glance. If they made friends - well, nothing good would come of it.

"I - thought the cat would keep you company when you weren't at work. I know how hard - well, I realize _now_ how hard the past few years have been for you. I didn't anticipate - you were still involved with vigilantes," Bruce said quietly.

"Thank you for the cat, Bruce."

"You aren't using your trust fund or - "

"I'm only going out as Nightwing for emergencies and - special circumstances," he winced, thinking of Eddie Brock working at The Daily Planet.

Bruce sighed. "It's not just for vigilante work and you know it. Alfred misses you. I - shit, I thought you'd forgive me by now."

They both turned their attention back to where Selina was taking her time brushing off Matt's ass with the roller.

"Better. Go fight crime," she said, swatting him and making him jolt forward with a surprised squeak before he darted to safety down the first escape.

"I don't want to be Bruce Wayne's pity project anymore," Dick said. "I know that's not your intention and it's 'way harsh' but - I need to lick my wounds and figure out - figure out where I belong."

"That's fine for Nightwing, but - Dick Grayson's always got a place in Gotham, for a night or a lifetime. Do you understand?"

He nodded. "Okay. Yes."

"Update your emergency contact information at the office," Selina said, retaking her seat with the kitten perched on her shoulder. "Sorry for manhandling your mate. I like him."

"You're not sorry," Bruce muttered.

"Supes told him how you defended your boyfriend from a creepy alien," Selina smiled. "Got the Bat in a whole tizzy."

"He's not my boyfriend. We're - figuring stuff out. He's a lawyer," Dick confided, smiling at their horrified expressions.

* * *

**Author's Note:**

> title and lyric tag belongs to rainbow kitten surprise


End file.
